This was a very interesting read, but it's not for the unsophisticated Fantasy-beach-book audience.
I read so many Fantasy manuscripts these days that I rarely pull a published Fantasy novel off the shelf to read for my own pleasure. (Something like 50 of them mock me from the Unread Shelves as I type this.) By "rarely" I mean once every 18 months, or so. This isn't even one I bought on my own: it was a freebie from a World Fantasy or Nebula Weekend attendee's bag. I gave it the First Page Test when I sorted the books after the con, which it passed, and I distributed the losers to the little free libraries that have sprung up all over the East End.
What caught my attention was the very unusual voice of the narrative, quickly established on that first page. The book is written in Second Person, Past Tense; which is rare enough. And since I teach Point of View at Seton Hill University's MFA in Writing Popular Fiction, that put it on my radar. But it's actually trickier still: this is really a First Person, Present Tense narrator telling the tale to herself in Second Person, Past, as a memoir. And the voice lapses into poetry-prose quite frequently (Here, choose the point of entry. Any place, any time, right now and you have--- Your small finger in the hearth's ashes. A line appears. You divide space. Then there were twigs and broom bristles. Scratches and marks and lines until you had the control to create shape. Circle, triangle, square, and your older brother, Ciaran, put the first nib under your thumb and the first scrap of parchment beneath that.)
There's yet another trick to the prose, which is an artful use of a medieval phrasing that can easily go terribly wrong. If you read the Icelandic sagas, or the Medieval Romances and histories, you'll often see sentences that come to complete stops. Full assertion, stop. Full assertion, stop. This slows the reader down, and in its bad form I've labeled it The Stomp. It can create paragraphs with zero flow, and little logical gaps between the sentences. Domingue manages to make it contemplative, and she doesn't do it in every paragraph. This gives a Fantasy feel, like somebody actually writing a memoir with a quill pen, without depending on forsoothly phrasing. It's kinda brilliant.
But yes, it does slow the reader down. This is engrossing, but the pages turn a little slowly. And many readers (as you can see from the wide range of ratings) simply can't deal with the unfamiliar POV and prose style.
I found the tale worth the risk, and was especially pleased that the book takes up subjects that Fantasy so often ignores, like the damage that warfare does to the warrior; and the damage they bring home. (Fantasy has strong roots in the Greek mythology and the Athenian Tragedies, which simply bathed in that material.) The work is a Fantasy Utopia, in a way, which seriously considers the duties of Utopian communities to the rest of the world.
My one quibble is that, like most Utopias, it essentially ignores the mentally ill and the fundamentally depraved or sociopathic citizens. It does take on the hideously wounded and abused, though. Five stars for that alone, I say.
It is also -- students take note -- grimace-free.
This one will stick with me for a long time. Beautiful, inventive, serious, challenging, and behind it all, a red dragon.